Page 32 of Her Cadillac Cowboy
CHAPTER TEN
The courtroom debacle had taken longer than she expected; it was after 1:00 p.m. She’d developed the habit of calling home around noon, just to check on things. So far, Dad had been surprisingly cooperative, especially since Nurse K.C. had turned out to be a man. But Dad would worry if she didn’t make her afternoon call. And where would she find another nurse if Daddy upset this one?
She closed her office door, sat down and dialed home on her cell.
“Carson residence,” K.C. answered on the second ring.
“Hi K.C. I called to see how you and Dad are doing.
“Oh, we’re getting along, Miss Carson. Your daddy doesn’t like being sick. Nobody does. But to be honest with you, I don’t think he needs full-time nursing care. Are you certain that’s what his doctor had in mind?
Was he trying to quit and let her down easy? She needed someone with her father so she could concentrate on the dealership without worrying about what Dad might be doing.And how’s that worked out for you so far?
“I’ll consider your recommendation, K.C. and discuss the matter with Doc Biggers at the first opportunity. Would you please stay on until I’ve had the chance to talk with the doctor?”
“Sure, Miss Carson. Your daddy and I are getting along fine.”
“That’s wonderful to hear. Could you put him on the phone, please?”
“Wish I could. He’s taking his afternoon nap.”
Nap? Daddy never took naps. “Ah, well, don’t wake him. Just tell him I called to let him know I’ll be home late again.”
“Will do. Is there anything else?”
“No, thank you very much, K.C. It was nice talking with you.”
“Good talking to you too. Bye.”
She ended the call then sat with her arms braced against her desk, waiting for the other shoe to drop. K.C.’s experience with Dad was so different from every other nurse’s, Sara couldn’t help thinking it was too good to be true. Things that were too good to be true generally were worse than they appeared.
She shook her head at herself and decided to get some work done before the next disaster struck.
Hours later, it was clear she’d worked too hard. The contract she read moved. Not the print, the contract itself. She slapped a hand down to keep the darn thing in place, only to have it disappear completely off her desk. She lifted her butt off the chair, slid forward over the top of her desk, and stretched both arms out full length. The contract dangled in mid-air, just beyond reach.
“Well now, that’s a mighty inviting picture you make, Sara, but if we want to make the 7:30 reservations I made, I don’t think we have time to play around.” Josh’s deep voice bubbled with laughter like thick honey on a hot stove.
Sara’s face heated. She retracted her arms and shoved off her desk into a standing position. “Josh, sweetie,” she mustered as much saccharin as she could manage.
He studied her, eyelids narrowing, and took a step back, the contract held before him like a shield, retreating out of range toward the door. She would not let him stop her from completing her work. She needed to put him in his place.
She pursued, running her hands up his arms, across his shoulders, and up his neck until her fingers tangled in his hair. “How ever did you get in here?” She looked up at him, lowered her voice, tugged gently on the curls at his nape, and licked her lips. His eyes were fixed on her mouth. He swallowed. She could feel his body vibrate against hers. She let one hand slip slowly downward and made a grab for the contract.
Josh jerked the papers upward.
She leaped after them.
His arms closed about her waist. The papers hit the floor, with her feet dangling in the air.This isn’t the way I meant for things to happen. His head bent. I’m supposed to put him in his place. Their lips touched.
The contract, her work, Will Talmidge, her father—everything disappeared in the swirl of feeling that came from Josh’s lips. His hands opened , swept downward, and clenched her hips, dragging her into intimate contact. His lips pressed harder. Hers parted. He soothed the bruised flesh then swept his tongue inside.
She fell into him, seeking ease for a kiss that inspired longing. His hands climbed her ribs. She expected—wanted—his touch on her breasts. Her hips moved in the only act of encouragement she could give.
Abruptly, Sara found her feet on the floor and herself about five inches away from Josh. She stared at eyes that blazed and a lean jaw taut with desire.
“Jeemeneeze, Sara, where did you learn to kiss like that?” He crushed her to his chest.
Her nose mashed against his hard shoulder. “I dinmf tmke weffons, if thass wha yo meeb.”
